I don’t know if I’ve mentioned, but I tasked myself with the enormous and time consuming (or wasting, perhaps,) feat of copying my first blog to a word file. I am about ¾ through copying it and almost halfway through reading it and I am not holding out much hope for something good. I have found a few things that might work for a project I have on the backburner, but otherwise it is one cringe worthy rant after another. In my opinion. Of course, I was the angsty twenty-something writing it and it’s hard to remember the days my devils got the best of me.
While working on this it occurred to me that frankly, I don’t get around much anymore. In my old blog, I updated almost constantly at first, with details of what was going on in my life. Then as the years went on, I updated less frequently, but when I did they were long and rambling entries covering several days of adventures. These experiences led me to write about the human condition and life in general and that is what I have been looking for.
Mark and I make adventures a big part of our relationship. We are always looking for new outdoor activities, such as swimming and hiking, and interesting local places, like diners and farmers markets. It’s lovely, but I don’t have much to say about these places, other than maybe a small anecdote. And while I have acquired some lovely places to add to my collection of settings, I feel I lack the experiences and relationships I had before.
Now, about half of that has to do with growing up. I can’t expect Molly to show up at my door at 10pm and suggest we go to New York City to buy a t-shirt (true story) because we have things like husbands and jobs and responsibilities. I can’t expect Sahar to be available 24/7 like she used to be because she’s got two babies and moved to that hell state. Also, we grow apart from the friends we have when we’re young. Life just gets in the way, and no love is lost, but it gets hard to stay together. There’s a quote I like about how it’s better to have 4 quarters than 100 pennies, and that’s how I feel about friendship, but also, I am in my 30s and it is NOT easy to make new friends.
The other half of the problem is my anxiety. Only in the past year have I seen some improvements, and it got particularly bad for a bit. I isolated myself as much as possible, and when I finally started to emerge from that bubble I found myself more alone. I lost interest in things I used to love, and now I don’t quite know how to get them back. I tried first with writing. I started this blog, and I started polishing and submitting my poetry. But what else? I’m desperate to get a 9-5 but I know I’ll lose it the second my gastroparesis acts up. I’ve found myself missing theater on occasion, but I honestly would not even know where to begin there.
I can’t wait until am done copying this old blog so that I can delete it forever. I can’t wait until I am done reading it so I can chop it up into little pieces and farm them out to other projects. It makes me feel like I am living in the past, because I am spending so much time remembering it and that’s not particularly healthy. What I need is new experiences and people and places and to stop isolating myself so much because it is depressing in here, guys. The worst is that I have nothing to write about. Writing is what keeps me going and sometimes I feel like I am not experiencing life enough to write about it. I’ve decided that I will try my hardest to find new experiences so that I have more fodder for my writing. Suggestions welcome, as I don’t even know where to start.
A snapshot from our latest adventure at Stonybrook State Park